


Just What He Needed

by Neliore



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: M/M, Punishment, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:00:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1235884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neliore/pseuds/Neliore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon is fighting insomnia, but a peculiar incident with Satin who tried to desert and must now be punished might get him to finally get some well deserved sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just What He Needed

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first piece of fanfic ever, so it might not be so good. Also, I hope my English won't put people off; it is not my first language. I would be really happy if people liked this story despite the reasons I stated above. Comments are more than welcome and very much appreciated.Thank you.

Jon does not sleep much these days. Too many things go through his head and it is so hard for him to find peace within himself, even just for a little while, so that he could drift blissfully to much craved sleep. He tosses and turns as if he is trying to chase away the pictures that keep coming to his head. There is Ygritte, his father, mother he never knew, stepmother who hated him, his friends and brothers, all dead now. Most of all, there is Robb. Always Robb. The pain would never go away, it burns through his entire body, he chokes on it day and night, finding it even more difficult than usual to speak, though he was never the talkative kind. Every time he issues a command he has to try his best not to break, not to show weakness, and yet he feels so weak and lost, all alone, without Robb, for Robb is dead and is never coming back. He struggles with guilt, as if he could have changed anything if he had left with Robb instead of coming to the Wall. _I could have at least died with him, then maybe it wouldn't hurt so much._

Instead, he lies awake, hating himself for being alive and unable to do anything to avenge Robb, just as he couldn't have done anything to save him.

Suddenly, he hears voices in the yard, one of them familiar. ''No, please, just kill me if you have to,'' Satin pleads.

''Aye, I'll kill you alright, pretty boy, for a deserter that you are, but not before I've had my fun. With the Mole's town whores all gone, what's a man to do? So you'll do just fine, lad, a whore is a whore, and I am past caring you're not a woman, cause you're not a man either, for what man can call himself a man when he's been fucked by half of Oldtown and devil knows who else? So shut up and move!''

_Oh no, not again._ This was not the first time some of the black brothers have tried to have their way with Satin, a young boy that's been a whore in Oldtown. Jon likes him. He is smart, obedient and friendly and Jon is sure there would be no problems for men of the Night's Watch to accept him as one of them, if only he hasn't been a whore, or so bloody beautiful for that matter.

He intervenes, of course he does, but he's not sure for how much longer will he be able to prevent what seems inevitable. Nonetheless, he stands up and walks down to the yard, managing to find his way through the dark. He catches a sight of two figures disappearing behind the armoury door. It's empty at this time of night.

He crosses the yard in few quick strides, Ghost following quietly. Jon pretty much guessed what kind of scene he might find once he opens that door and is not at all surprised when he sees young Satin bent over one of the old tables, his breeches pulled down, soft skin of his buttocks and thighs shining under the light of a candle. What surprises him, however, is his own reaction to it. For some reason, the vulnerability of the boy's position tugs at Jon's heart. He turns to the man standing behind Satin, who is now trying to pull his own breeches up at the sight of the Lord Commander and is looking embarrassed that he was caught like this.

''What's going on in here?'' Jon demands.

''Bloody whore tried to desert, my Lord Commander, thought to teach him a lesson.''

''With your breeches down? Why was he not brought to me?''

The man is quiet, he knows there's nothing he could to say. Satin is quiet as well, too scared to even sniffle.

''Get out,'' says Jon. ''I will deal with him.''

''What will you do to him, Lord Commander? He tried to desert, saw him riding south towards Mole's town or who knows where, he should lose his head for that.''

Jon hears himself echoing words of another Lord Commander, from what seemed like thousands of years ago, at that time directed to him. ''If we beheaded every boy who rode to Mole's town in the night, only ghosts would guard the Wall. Now get out, I will see that he is punished.''

The man leaves. Satin iss still too scared to move, probably thinking that Jon will now wish to have his way with him, so he just remains how he was, breathing slowly in anticipation. Jon is feeling awkward. He is silent for few moments and then he speaks: ''Satin, turn around. Look at me.''

Satin does as he's told, still not pulling his breeches up, but shyly keeping his hand over his crotch, slowly lifting his eyes up to meet Jon's gaze. Jon sees that he's been hit, there's some blood in the corner of his lips. And his beautiful big eyes are wet with tears, scared and pleading.

''Did you really try to desert?'' Jon asks.

Satin looks down again. ''I don't know... maybe I did. I just wanted to get away from them...''

''You do know what's the punishment for deserters?''

''Yes, I do.'' He looks up again. ''I am not afraid to die, my Lord.'' Again, this sentence takes Jon back, so far back in time, to when he lost his father, the time when he was still not Lord Commander, before Ygritte, before the great ranging, before Fist of the First Men, before Battle of Castle Black, when he still knew nothing of the wildlings or dark things lurking in the night, when he still thought he would keep his vows forever, back to a time when Robb was still alive. And suddenly everything seems so sad. Jon is sad, this night is sad, the full moon and the silence of Castle Black asleep are sad, and this young boy standing in front of him with his beautiful curls, soft skin, full lips and scared eyes seems the saddest of them all.

Jon sighs. ''It is late, Satin. Get your clothes in order and go back to sleep. We shall not speak of this again.''

But Satin stirs. ''Lord Commander, m... my Lord, I thought you said you would punish me?''

''I think you've been punished enough, go back to sleep now.''

''Please... don't make me go back to the barracks, with all the men. Punish me if you wish, but don't make me go back there. That was the reason I wanted to leave in the first place.'' Satin appears bolder now, he even braves a half-smile, looking at Jon without blinking.

Jon thinks for a moment. He understands very well why Satin wouldn't want to sleep among other men in the barracks and he is determent to find a way to accommodate him in that regard. As for the punishment, he has no idea what to do. Or rather, he has plenty, but tries very hard to push them out of his head. And yet, Satin still stands in his place, his eyes set firmly on Jon. _He knows,_ Jon thinks, _he knows what goes through my mind. And he doesn't seem to mind. Could it be... that he wants it too?_

''Very well,'' Jon says. _I won't fuck this boy,_ he thinks, _I will _not_ use this boy. _

''Bend over the table, Satin.'' Jon saya sternly.

Satin blinks, and does as commanded. Though Jon thinks he saw a sudden sparkle in his eye and the tiniest smile on his lips as he did so.

''I will punish you the way my father used to punish us when we misbehaved as children.'' Jon decides. He takes the heavy old razor strap that hangs on one of the walls, then takes a step back and lifts his arm in preparation for the stroke.

Yet he can't bring himself to do it. Satin seems so soft, so fragile, hurt in so many ways already that he doesn't want to really cause him such pain. So Jon drops the strap to the floor and lays just his hand across Satin's bare backside instead, not too hard, but hard enough to make that obscene sound of flash hitting against flash and to cause Satin to gasp. His hand has left a slight pink mark on Satin's left butt cheek. He hits again, this time on the right one. SMACK! Satin makes no sound nor does he move. Jon lifts his hand again and brings it down, this time with more force. SMACK! And once more. SMACK! And then again. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Satin's ass is now a beautiful pink hue and Jon can swear he's even lifting it slightly to meet the blows, little moaning sounds escaping his lips. Jon continues, feeling himself grinning wickedly with self-satisfaction at this revelation. _So you do want this Satin, don't you?_ And he continues to smack Satin's firm backside, each blow more forceful than the other, picking up pace, smacking him hard, exalted to hear the other boy moan louder, thrilled to see that lovely ass turning darker shade of pink. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The blows now rain in full force, armoury echoing with the slapping sounds. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Jon is as possessed, giving Satin's ass all his worth, feeling his cock swelling. Satin is now gasping, moaning, crying out even, but he still stays in place, his ass completely on fire. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Jon brings more blows down, showing absolutely no mercy, punishing Satin for all and everything. For his attempted desertion. SMACK! For the way he _extorted_ this punishment from Jon. SMACK! For obviously enjoying it too much now. SMACK! For the cold. SMACK! For being so pretty. SMACK! For Jon's raging erection. SMACK! For Jon's urge to fuck him then and there like there was no tomorrow. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Jon's hand is starting to really burn now and that sensation makes him think Satin's poor cheeks might have had enough. As hard as it is to stop, Jon's self-control is back in charge and his animal urges retreat, for now at least. Jon knows they would be back though, and then... Gods help Satin when they do. But he decides to go slowly, he really likes him. So after delivering few more smacks Jon takes a deep breath and stops. The rest will have to wait for some other night.

Satin seems a mess. His ass is a deep shade of red, his knuckles white from the force he was holding the edge of the table with, legs shaking a bit. He is sniffling, taking deep breaths, but he is still not turning around or getting up.

''Get up, Satin,'' Jon says, not unkindly. ''Put your clothes back in order and go to my chambers. You will not be sleeping in the barracks anymore. You will take on the duties of my personal steward, starting now.''

Satin gets up, pulls up his breeches and looks at Jon. Few tears are running down his face, his lips are trembling, but his look is full of gratitude.

''Oh, J...'' he sobs, ''Lord Commander, I..., thank you.'' And then he almost collapses to the ground: ''I am so sorry, so sorry. I will not try to run away again, I am so sorry.''

Jon takes him in his arms, a bit awkwardly, and then, just as he reaches to touch his face, somehow manages to compose himself quickly and steps back. Nonetheless he says very gently: ''Shhh, shhh, I know, don't cry now, it's good. You are forgiven for that. Come on now, pull yourself together and let's go. I'm tired.''

So they leave for Jon's chambers together, in complete silence. Jon knows Satin is probably expecting something more once they're inside, but he is determent to control himself. He is the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. He knows he will have Satin, but not yet, he will take his time.

As he lays in the dark, his erection still very much present, with Satin sleeping in another bed across the room, for the first time in what seems like years Jon does not think about anything. He just listens to the other boy's breathing, slow and quiet, and with that sweet sound, his tense body starts to relax, his eyes close, and with a smile on his lips Jon finally falls asleep.


End file.
